


Unnecessarily

by rhythmickorbit



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Cyberverse
Genre: Comfort, Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Drabble, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Forehead Kisses, Hugs, I love them so much, Kissing, Light Angst, Not Beta Read, Prompt Fic, Sneaking Out, Useless Lesbians, happens after the finale of season 1, or anytime really, soft, they love each other so much guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 14:23:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21055868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhythmickorbit/pseuds/rhythmickorbit
Summary: Windblade insists on meeting in the middle of the night, where the other inhabitants of the Ark can't disturb them. Chromia can't see how this is necessary, but indulges her sparkmate nonetheless.Kisses and cuddles under the stars ensue.





	Unnecessarily

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt "footsteps in the dark".

They didn’t actually need to do this. Chromia had told Windblade as much, looking the cityspeaker in the optics with amusement as she had given the suggestion. However, in the end, Chromia simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to spend time with Windblade-- there had barely been time since she first awoke from stasis lock, and neither she nor Windblade knew when they would be able to be alone together again. The threat of being knocked offline loomed over every Autobot’s helm with an uncomfortably close proximity, after all.

Sneaking out of the Ark, though? Was that necessary? Chromia cycled her optics as she waited for the night cycle to fall over the ship, simultaneously waiting for the time when Hot Rod inevitably fell asleep on his guard shift. She would have to lecture him later on that-- Chromia had little tolerance for slacking off on the job-- but reminded herself that _ everyone _ was tired, including herself. The constant Decepticon attacks were hard on everyone.

A megaklik passed, and Chromia sat up on her recharge slab. She poked her helm out of her habsuite, checking for any possible midnight wanderers. Satisfied that no one was there, Chromia carefully stepped into the hallway. The slightly rusted floor creaked a little bit underneath of her pede. She glared at the transgressor. The damn floor was going to get her caught, and in turn get her some very odd looks from the other Autobots. A heavy, exasperated sigh drifted out of Chromia’s vents before she could stop it. This had better be good, she thought.

Chromia padded down the hallway without further incident, although she knew for a fact that Teletraan X was watching her with curiosity. At least the ship had the courtesy not to call her out on this ridiculous venture.

Upon reaching the ship’s entrance (Windblade had refused to let her use a ground bridge), Chromia passed by a Hot Rod deeply in recharge, sure enough. Chromia snorted softly, and silently exited the Ark.

The cavern outside was lit by clusters of bioluminescent organics. Although the brightness levels left something to be desired, it was enough to see by once her optic settings adjusted to the dark. Chromia attempted to ping Windblade, but the cityspeaker pointedly ignored her.

She was being ridiculous again. Chromia smiled despite herself, and swept across the cavern in search of a flash of crimson, or a wing poking out from behind a stalagmite. They often played this game back on Caminus, Chromia remembered, particularly on the nights when Windblade tired of the pomp and circumstance surrounding Cityspeaker’s life. She snorted softly, recalling very well how Windblade would jump out from behind corners and crannies when they were alone, all in the name of “improving Chromia’s bodyguard skills”. Her spark sent a small, aching pang through her circuits as she also remembered how the games ended once the two travelled to Cybertron. There had been no need to hide anymore.

Chromia shook off the feelings and, determining that there was nothing hiding in the cavern, headed toward the tunnel leading out of the volcano. That passage was narrow, with nowhere to hide. She went through it quickly, and exited into the soft cacophony of the organic ecosystem outside. It was brighter out here, Earth’s moon shining silver in a full, milky disc. Chromia adjusted her optics accordingly. She swung her helm around. She couldn’t sense Windblade’s EM field to the left, to the right…

Something pricked her awareness from above. Chromia cycled her optics good-naturedly, and looked up at the sky, obscured as it was by the arcing arms of the trees surrounding her. A red flight frame hovered overhead.

_ “Subtle,” _Chromia opened a comm channel with Windblade, the word tinged with amusement.

In response, the jet simply zoomed northward. Chromia huffed in exasperation, and began to follow its path through the uneven ground of the forest.

Eventually, Chromia reached a break in the tight embrace of the still organics. Their leaves rustled far too loudly for Chromia’s taste, and she grit her dentae slightly as she stepped into a wide clearing. A small hill rose in the space’s center, where a very familiar, red figure sat cross legged, looking at Chromia with those mischievous, wonderful optics.

“We didn’t need all of the spectacle for this,” Chromia grumbled at Windblade as she walked toward her. Chromia plopped down beside her sparkmate in the grass. “You’ve been spending far too much time with Bumblebee.”

“It was fun, admit it,” Windblade grinned at her. “Besides, you’re the one that indulged me. Thank you for that, by the way.”

Chromia couldn’t help but smile back. “You know that it’s impossible for me not to.”

Windblade folded her wings. “Yep!” She grabbed Chromia’s hand gently, although with insistence. She fell back onto the soft, organic matter below them, and Chromia was dragged down with her. She grunted in surprise.

Unhindered by the claustrophobic branches, stars danced across the clear sky. The only clouds passing by were tiny, wispy things, that more added to the atmosphere of the scene than anything. For the first time, Chromia was aware of the chill in the air, a bite that, although nowhere near as cold as sections of Caminus could get, still gnawed her extremities. She interlocked her fingers with Windblade’s, curling them against her sparkmate’s palm for warmth. From the corner of Chromia’s optic, Windblade squinted indignantly.

“Your fingers are _ freezing _.”

“Your frame is boiling,” Chromia countered. “You have more than enough heat to spare, my Cityspeaker. Would you do me a favor and share some with your humble bodyguard?”

Windblade scooted closer to Chromia, enveloping her in both blissful warmth and the soft press of an affectionate EM field. “You haven’t been my bodyguard since we lived on Caminus.”

“I’ll always be your bodyguard… in the ways that count, I suppose.” Chromia chuckled, and pulled her jet closer. Her optics shuttered for but a moment as Windblade draped an arm over her, and the warm air of her exvents brushed against Chromia’s neck cables.

“Shush. I can take care of myself, for now,” Windblade murmured. “You’ve seen me fight.”

“With a sword, yes. You wouldn’t be able to land a punch if your life was in danger,” Chromia teased.

“Things change,” Windblade laughed. “Maybe I got better at hand-to-hand while you were sleeping under a volcano.”

“Not fair,” Chromia chided. “We can determine this argument tomorrow-- you can spar with me, and prove yourself.”

“Are you kidding? The last couple of times we’ve sparred with hand-to-hand, you almost destroyed me! Those dents took _ forever _ to buff out.” Windblade rested her helm on Chromia’s shoulder. 

“I suppose that we could wait.” Chromia’s optics flicked toward Windblade. She sat up, and slid her arms around Windblade’s waist-- she could almost pretend that they were still on Caminus, with nothing more to worry about but the public eye. Windblade relaxed into her touch, leaning back against Chromia as if it hadn’t been millions of years since they have done this. Their fields tangled and intermingled in that old, familiar way, Windblade’s dipping into the gaps in Chromia’s-- slotting together just as perfectly as their bodies did.

“Chromia, you could have gone back to Caminus. Found someone else,” Windblade spoke up, the worry in her voice reflected by the wavering in her field. “Why didn’t you?”

Chromia huffed softly, brushing her lips briefly on the top of Windblade’s helm. “Asking the heavy questions, as you always do.”

“Could you answer it?” Windblade twisted around in Chromia’s grasp so that they were face to face. “I just… I think about how long its been, since the Ark was lost. That’s an entire lifetime for some ‘bots, time you could have spent… doing anything but being stuck in stasis. Under a volcano. On an unknown planet. That was swarming with Decepticons. You could have avoided it, if you…” Windblade trailed off, but Chromia could hear the implication.

“Windblade, it will always be my duty to follow you, to protect you. Not because of the bodyguard thing,” She fixed Windblade with a hard look as the other mecha opened her intake. “No, it is my duty to follow you, because I believe in you. I believed in your ability to do the right thing more than in my own inclination to return home. I would have preferred that you stay safe, yourself, stay out of a war that was not Camien-- or any war at all, for that matter. But in the end, you fought for those that you kept in your spark, for the friends that you’ve made, for the home that you adopted. It’s that quality that made me choose to stay, and what captured my spark.” Chromia paused. “In short, I followed you here because I love you more than any so-called home that I would have to go back to without you.”

Windblade’s lips parted in shock as she stared at Chromia, her optics soft and reverent as if she were a newly-forged looking at the Temple of Flame for the first time. The expression made Chromia shift, and glance away with a blush across her faceplates.

And then, Windblade kissed her. It was soft, chaste, brief-- but nonetheless, it sent a shock through Chromia’s systems, sent a wave of _ this feels right, you feel right _ through her EM field. She turned her gaze back to Windblade, and couldn’t help but feel a wave of adoration make her tanks churn.

“I love you too,” Windblade fixed her again with that sticky gaze. “By the Allspark, Chromia, I didn’t know that you had it in you.”

“Had it in me to do what?”

“Actually, like, vocalize your feelings. Wow.” Windblade draped her arms around Chromia’s neck. “I could get used to that.”

“If it makes you look at me like _ that _,” Chromia mumbled with a blush, pressing her forehead against Windblade’s. “I will have to, perhaps, be less ‘professional’ in my language with you.”

“Oh, please do,” Windblade giggled, kissing Chromia’s nasal ridge. “We have a million years to catch up on, after all.”

“Indeed,” Chromia murmured, letting her lips brush against Windblade’s. “Indeed, we do.” The two melted into a kiss, soft and sweeter than any energon goodie that Chromia had ever eaten. She tightened her hold around Windblade’s hip plates, spark fluttering and flaring as she savored the moment, the hold of the one that she loved in her arms.

They would have to “sneak out” more often.

**Author's Note:**

> I love Chromblade and so should you! These girls are so Soft and I need to write them more. Also this is just pointless fluff to make me feel happy soooo take it as you will! I need more happy, loving girls in my life
> 
> Petition for Hasbro to made chromblade canon in cyberverse smh stop keeping my girls from kissing Hasbro
> 
> I listened to "Kill the Director" by The Wombats while I wrote this so take that as you will ;0


End file.
